


Two Crash Together

by tinyginger



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Bisexual Spencer Reid, Boyfriends, Childhood Trauma, Depressed Spencer Reid, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Light BDSM, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Pre-Series, Roommates, Spencer Reid Needs a Hug, Trauma, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, friends but also boyfriends, friends with benefits?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:08:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23930575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinyginger/pseuds/tinyginger
Summary: Spencer needs his brain to shut off, Ethan cannot make his own mind shut off but tries to help.
Relationships: Ethan/Spencer Reid
Comments: 4
Kudos: 63





	Two Crash Together

**Author's Note:**

> This was in my brain. I might write another chapter? Maybe another one-shot? Idk but here this one in.

“C’mon, Crash, you gotta learn to have some fun.” Ethan gazed at the younger man through hooded eyes, an almost empty whisky tumbler held loosely in his oscillating hand. “That’s why we’re together right? We’re friends ‘cause I make you have fun, you make me be smart.”

“I thought we were friends because we like each other.” Spencer’s voice came out as a broken whisper. 

“Of course that’s why we’re friends!” Ethan agreed, “but that’s why we work. We complete each other.”

Spencer nodded and took a drink from his own tumbler. He didn’t say anything else, he didn’t really know what else to say. Ethan was different when he was drunk and lately he was drunk all the time. 

“Are you sleeping here tonight?” Spencer asked motioning around the area, glancing to their bedroom so close to the couch but too far most nights for Ethan.

“Mmm…” Ethan glanced at the sofa he was half laying on and nodded. 

“Great, I’ll see you in the morning.” Spencer stood and poured his still pretty full tumbler into Ethan’s near empty one. 

“Spencer-Spencer wait.” Ethan slurred trying to stand but falling back to the couch. “You remember when we were little?”

“I remember everything.” Spencer replied. 

“No you don’t- you can’t remember everything.” Ethan licked his lips then ghosted his long, nimble fingers against the cold skin of Spencer’s hand, slowly moving up to his delicate wrist, tightening his grip and giving a lazy tug. 

Spencer followed easily, allowing himself to be pulled forward without a fight. He landed softly on Ethan’s chest, quickly moving his leg to the other side so he was straddling the older man’s hips.

“I remember enough.” Spencer whispered, his pupils blown under half massed lids.

“No-not what I’m… remembering.” Ethan shook his head. “It’s good. You don’t need to remember it.”

Without prompting, Spencer lent forward and crashed his lips against Ethan’s. “Make me forget?”

Ethan smirked and handed the whisky tumbler over, watching as Spencer downed the whole thing. The burning in his throat filled his body. Familiar fingers tickled his abdomen as they found their way under his CalTech t-shirt. The shirt was gone in an instant. Ethan watched as the young man undressed himself, licking his lips and moaning as he shifted on his lap. 

“So fucking hot.” Ethan breathed out. 

Spencer leveled his gazed and commanded, “Take off your shirt.” 

“Yes sir.” 

While Ethan clumsily shed his shirt, Spencer sat back on the older man’s shins, quickly unbuttoning his jeans and shimming them down a bit. He braced his hands on Ethan’s now bare thighs, his fingers digging into the muscles. Ethan gasped as Spencer’s mouth took him by surprise. 

“Okay?” Came Spencer’s muffled check.

“Fuck!” Ethan groaned, hands gripping the armrest of the sofa. “Yes! Yes, this is-is yes.”

It didn’t take long for Ethan’s fingers to find Spencer’s hair, twisting and pulling and sending sharp spikes of near painful pleasure through his scalp. The younger man’s eyes fluttered at the first tug, his fingers digging deeper with each pull and his breath hitching as Ethan bucked. 

Ethan’s movements were sloppy as he pulled Spencer up towards his face so he could kiss the young man. He looked into Spencer’s eyes, his own vision swimming while he watched the young man blink slowly, his lips parted, inviting invasion. 

“Please.” Spencer requested, his eyes flicking away from Ethan. “Make it- make it stop. Make it go away.”

Ethan nodded and raised his hand Spencer’s cheek, caressing it softly as he searched the young man’s face. No one knows his boy’s face, not like Ethan does. The genius was a master at hiding his emotions most of the time. He could fake a smile, a frown, neutrality, and ignorance better than anyone. He used his masks to get what he wanted and get people to do what he wanted them to. Ethan always thought if his boy didn’t care so much about people, he would be an almost unstoppable villain. 

He’d seen glimpses of the boy’s “dark side”, the side of Spencer that was unlocked when someone he loved was threatened. Ethan knew, deep down, he had yet to see what Spencer was truly capable of. He also knew Spencer would have to be completely and utterly broken and then some, for his true dark side to fill him and take over. Ethan hoped and prayed that day would never come, because if it did… it would be the end of Spencer. 

“What am I making you forget?” Ethan asked slowly, his words slurring a little as he focused more on the nineteen year old hovering over him than on the formation of his words. 

“Everything.” Spencer gasped out as Ethan attached his mouth to the younger boy’s collar bone. 

Ethan knew just how to make his boy forget everything. He’d been doing it for a long time. Spencer’s brain was on 24/7, multiple trains running through his mind at all times of day, never giving the poor boy a break to just relax. Most nights, Spencer would be unable to sleep due to his brain kicking into high gear as he tried to drift to sleep. The memories he tried so hard to forget always made appearances at this time, when he wasn’t focused on anything to distract from them. Ethan was sympathetic to the young man, having a mind that worked similarly. Though, most of his memories were drowned in whiskey, and rarely swam their way to the surface. 

They two had worked out a system long ago, that they still used today. A system of code words, phrases, safe words, verbal and non verbal signals. A system that helped both men cope with their minds, their pasts, and their presents. They created the constantly evolving system back when they were both still in Nevada before graduating high school, before Spencer’s dad left, before Spencer and Ethan were anything other than “advanced for his age”. Ethan and Spencer had an immediate connection when they first met. 

Not that Spencer remembers meeting him. The trauma short circuited little Spencer’s brain, making it impossible for him to remember the first few years of their friendship. But the two had been friends almost instantly. Spencer, being only a baby at the time, didn’t really have any sense of what friends were, and Riley wasn’t talking yet when they met. But both boys had sat on Riley’s living room floor and listened as Ethan read a chapter book to them while their parents talked in the kitchen. 

Ethan was grateful that Spencer didn’t remember a lot about that time, it would make everything more painful for the you get man, and would make the overwhelming guilt in Ethan’s stomach so much worse. 

Spencer has been too young to be hanging out with the older people , and all the adults treated him like he could handle more than he was actually capable of. Ethan never liked the way adults treated the “advanced” kids. 

These advanced kids seemed to all live in the same area, their parents were friends, and had some sort of support group. They group ultimately disbanded after the whole Gary Michaels incident. Ethan still remembers the horrific event like it was yesterday, a horror movie playing in his head every time he allows himself to be sober enough to dream. 

Spencer was the youngest, only four years old and still keeping up with him and Riley. They all lived on the same street and were the “advanced kids” of the neighborhood. Riley was a near perfect middle age of the three of them. He was almost exactly two years older than Spencer and only one year and ten months younger than Ethan. But the difference those years made at the time was significant. While they were all around the same level mentality, Ethan was more capable when it came to being independent. He had more advanced motor functions than the other boys. His dexterity gave him the advantage of better penmanship, control over his movements, and his ability to do little things for himself like brush his hair and teeth and tie his shoes.

Riley had been more dexterous than Spencer at the time, his two years giving him an advantage. And even though he wasn’t as old as Ethan and didn't have great control over his fine motor skill, he was the most athletic out of the three. 

They were all on the same little league team. Spencer was really only on the team because his dad was the coach and he wanted to spend more time with him, and Ethan and Riley. Ethan was okay, not great, he would rather spend his time playing the piano, but t-ball was a favorite hobby of his. But Riley, Riley was the star. He was fast and loved to play. Some days when they all went to the park, Riley would convince Spencer and Ethan to play catch instead of reading or playing chess like they planned to. 

Sometimes, Ethan really missed Riley. It was always at the weirdest times that Riley would pop into his mind, and Ethan would start thinking about the kid if he was grown up, wondering if they’d all be friends. 

Having Spencer pinned against the couch, the young man gasping and moaning as Ethan’s fingers left bruises on the pale flesh of Spencer’s neck, both naked and intoxicated, should not spark thoughts of their long dead friend. It did though. And so many times over the past fifteen years Ethan had almost slipped up and mentioned him. Nearly asked “do you remember Riley?”, but he worried it would break Spencer. Especially when he had the young man so vulnerable beneath him. 

But he did wonder. He wondered what Riley would think of him and Spencer being in this position, if maybe he’d be appalled by the sex, maybe it would trigger something and they’d stop and call him down. But that was only in the reality where Riley survived. The reality where Gary Michaels didn’t take Riley and Spencer and hold them down in his basement, torturing the young boys until one broke and the other died. He always wondered what would be different if Riley hadn’t died. If everything had gone like it did, but the adults had gotten to them sooner. 

The first thing that Ethan knew for sure was Spencer would still remember their friend. But would that mean he’d remember what happened? Or would his mind forget the details of what happened in that basement and he’d live his life thinking he and Riley were simply kidnapped and scared. Ethan also wondered if Riley would have let Spencer forget, and if they would’ve been closer since they went through that together. Maybe Riley would be the one on top of Spencer right now, and Ethan would be sitting in his car waiting for Riley to give him the clear that they were all done. Or maybe they’d all just be best friends, and Ethan and Riley would try and set Spencer up on dates. Or maybe Riley would be their straight friend, who acted more gay with Spencer than his own boyfriend did causing everyone to ask if they were dating, and Ethan would say “no, I’m the boyfriend. Ry just likes to cuddle my boyfriend”. Ethan would be okay with that. He’d be okay if Spencer and Riley shared a bond that was stronger than the ones they shared with him. He had been their protector, their older brother, and he’d let them get hurt, he let Riley die. 

A double tap on his arm brought him out of his thoughts. Automatically relaxing his hands and holding them up as he shifted back so he was sitting lightly on Spencer thighs. 

“Did I hurt you?” The words tumbled out of his mouth as he watched Spencer prop himself up with his elbows. 

“I’m fine.” Spencer shook his head. “I stopped ‘cause you looked far away. Are you okay?”

Ethan blinked slowly a few times, willing his heart to slow down. Once the fear that he’d really hurt his young friend died out, he nodded and gently held Spencer’s hips, smoothing his thumb over the pointy, prominent bones. 

“I’m good, I just got lost in some memories and couldn’t find my way back.” Ethan shook his head, attempting to clear it. “I think I’ve had too much whisky for this kind of play.”

Spencer nodded and laid back, his arms going up and hands grabbing for Ethan like a child. “We should call it a night anyway.” 

Ethan smirked at Spencer’s childish hand motions, but moved himself so he was laying on top of the smaller boy. Their naked chests pressed together, Spencer’s hands drawing shapes on Ethan’s back as Ethan carded his fingers through Spencer’s now tangled hair. 

“I’m sorry we didn’t finish.” Ethan whispered as they started to fall asleep. 

“I stopped us.” Spencer reminded. “Not because I felt scared or unsafe, but because I didn’t want to continue.” 

“I thought you wanted to forget?”

“Not if you’re not into it.” Spencer shrugged. “I’d rather lie here with you, holding you while our minds race than you fuck me without getting anything out of it. If I did that, I’d be using you… and now that I know the difference I will never do that again. I’m keeping that promise.” 

“Spencer-”

“Goodnight E.” Ethan could see the smirk on the young man’s face, and couldn’t help himself. He leaned forward and kissed at the corner of his mouth. 

“Good night, Crash.”

At some point during the night, Ethan had pulled a blanket over the two of them. They were still naked, and even with Ethan covering Spencer’s body with his own, the younger man was trembling with chills. 

Spencer knew he wasn’t going to get much sleep, but hoped the whiskey would help. It didn’t. If anything it made everything worse, because he hadn’t had enough to numb his brain into dreamless sleep, but he wasn’t in control enough to wake himself up before the dreams turned into nightmares.

_Spencer sat on an ugly rug covering a concrete floor. There was a long set of wood stairs that creak when stepped on. He was crying. He could feel the tear tracks on his face. He knew he was crying because he was scared, but he was also hurt. A deep burn filled his aching body. He looked down and he was four again. Next to him, lying limp on the floor was his imaginary friend, Riley._

_Suddenly he was at the top of the stairs looking down at the two boys. One was a baby, barely three, maybe a very small four year old, and the other was hidden behind a dryer. A small foot peeking out from behind the machine, a red shoe covering it, untied._

_Spencer scooped up the smaller boy, holding him against his chest as the both trembled and cried. His eyes trailed on the unconscious boy’s foot. As he rounds the corner, to look behind the machine, the young boy in his arms starts screaming. A creek behind him alerts that someone is coming down the stairs, and just as his eyes land on the young boy, dead behind the machine, a hand lands on his shoulder._

_He struggles to keep a hold of the baby in his arms but cannot once an arm is around his throat, choking him out while whispering “good boy” in his ear._

“Spencer!” Ethan called, trying to wake the thrashing man. “Reid, c’mon! Wake up!” 

Spencer jolts up with a shredded scream. His eyes wide, face tear stained, and sweat beads covering his forehead and neck. 

“E?” His voice cracked at the one syllable. 

“It was a dream.” Ethan told him, pulling the young man against his chest and holding him tightly. “It was just a dream, a bad bad dream. You’re safe now.” 

“I couldn’t save him.” Spencer whispered brokenly. “I can never save him.” 

“It’s okay.” Ethan hushed him. “It’s not real. It’s just a dream.” 

“It always feels so real.” Spencer mumbled, giving into his body’s exhaustion and melting into Ethan’s chest. “So real.” 

“I know.” Ethan nodded, kissing the top of Spencer’s head. 

“It was the same boys.” Spencer stayed. “My imaginary friend and me. I don’t get why I’m always the baby and Riley is always the one behind the washing machine. Maybe because my childhood ended when I was so young? That’s why he’s always dead in the dream?”

“And you- you not being able to save him?” Ethan cleared his throat, trying to sound like he’s just theorizing about a dream and not recalling what actually happened. “Maybe that’s ‘cause you couldn’t save your own childhood? You knew you had to grow up and you did.”

Spencer shrugged. “I don’t know. It could also be because of my anxiety about the FBI. There’s really no use in trying to understand the dream. It could be that I watched a scary movie when I was young and now I remember that scene and it plays every so often in my sleep. Who knows.” 

“You okay to go back to bed?” Ethan asked. “I could get you something?” 

“I’m fine.” Spencer sighed. “Good night.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
